Saturday, October 20, 2012


I found this poem on Bentlily. It's this pretty great website where you get a poem a day, you can create your own poem by filling in a Mad Libs-type questionnaire and you can even submit your own poetry to be a guest poet.

I think I forgot about poetry after high school...

But I found this poem tonight and... it's cute. And true. Who doesn't get excited to pick up mail? That there may be something fun there? Something hand-written, god forbid.

I remember in middle school, when our English teacher arranged for us to have penpals with other students across the country. What incredible excitement for a sixth grader! Maybe I liked school a little too much... (nerd alert!)

Just writing back and forth... on lined notebook paper. With a mechanical pencil. And maybe some stickers to put on the paper. You have to add a wallet school pic so she knows who she's dealing with. Unfortunately, the school photo: not my finest moment. But, my Mom always had extras, so...

Anyways -- here's the poem:

The Curious Appeal of Futile Anticipation

I don’t know when I will stop
expecting a letter
instead of all these bills
and flyers for pizza and men
who wash windows in kilts

there is no one in particular
I think might be writing me

but I cannot help
the hopefulness

the unreasonable optimism
that the clang of the mailbox
means somebody held me in the nest
of their thoughts

so old-fashioned
like milk in glass bottles
like handkerchiefs

one day I will try to explain to my son
the appeal of anticipation
in an instant world

that there is sweetness
in the wait.


  1. So does this mean you would like more mail? I recently told Pat that and now I often get letters from both her, oh and Ga Ga too.